For Want of a Mallory
by Slithery
Summary: Mallory Hopkins is no ordinary eleven year old. At Hogwarts, she quickly realizes that her position as the only muggleborn in Slytherin is a precarious one, and it's up to her to put a stop to the bullying. That alone would be enough for any child, but the Chamber of Secrets is opening, and her teachers are whispering how she looks just like her mother.
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary:**

Follows the events of 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.'

Mallory Hopkins is no ordinary eleven year old. At Hogwarts, she quickly realizes that her position as the only muggleborn in Slytherin is a precarious one, and it's up to her to put a stop to the bullying. That alone would be enough for any child, but the Chamber of Secrets is opening, and her teachers are whispering how she looks just like her mother. But that doesn't make sense, because both her parents are muggles, right?

Meanwhile, Witches and Wizards are disappearing across Great Britain, and there are whispers that the Dark Lord has risen.

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own Harry Potter. Consider this disclaimer as standing true for this chapter and all other chapters I write. I do not make money from writing this.

**Author's Note:** To get the typical questions out of the way: no, this isn't a fem!Harry story, nor will Mallory be the romantic interest of Harry Potter or any of the main characters. Mallory is not meant to fill the role of Harry Potter, nor does she play any real role in the main plot of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. We already know what happens, and who did it. There are no great mysteries to uncover or surprises to be found there.

Also, this is not a dark story. I won't write Dumbledore as evil, and I'll do my best to give Voldemort reasonable aims, because at the end, I want you, the audience, to be torn between which side to support.

I really *really* enjoy red-herrings. I don't doubt that my plot has been done before, because at this point (given the sheer volume of Harry Potter fanfiction) it's statistically unlikely. However, I've put my own spin on it, and I *do* expect to surprise you.

_Edited by my dear friend, the lovely Sage._

* * *

><p><strong>November 22, 1981<strong>

One early November evening in a small village on the edge of Dartmoor stood an old wizened man, looking out of place in his bright purple robes and pointy hat.

With a loud pop, an equally strange man appeared next to him. This one had oily hair and wore a long black cloak. In his arms he held a small bundle, roughly the size and shape of a baby.

"Severus."

"We'll just be leaving it here then, with the muggles?"

"It's the best we can do, Severus."

"Albus, this is a foolish idea. Eventually, her family will find out."

"We'll make sure that doesn't happen." said Albus. The old wizard then took the child from the oily man's arms and walked to the front door of a small cottage, where two unsuspecting muggles lived.

The muggles were vetted in advance, both of them. Kind people who couldn't have a child of their own, and who desperately wanted one. It was the perfect solution to their problem.

"And if she discovers the truth, what then?" Snape hissed.

The old wizard didn't answer his question.

Albus Dumbledore knocked on the front door. Inside, there was the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and footsteps.

It was all they could do, to give her a chance.

* * *

><p><strong>March 21, 1991<strong>

Two bikes skidded to a halt in front of the low stone wall separating the dirt road from the Turner's property. Mallory Hopkins and Danny Pearce weren't supposed to be here, but it was a shortcut to the main road into the village of South Brent, and they were running late for dinner.

On this day, Mallory turned eleven years old. Her birthday party had been earlier that afternoon. She opened her presents and ate a rather large portion of her cake, before dragging Danny out to their bikes. Past the main road and across two hills, they rode all the way to their favorite spot by the river, where they spent a lazy afternoon basking in the sun and splashing stones into the water.

But now it was getting dark and Danny said his mum would skin him alive if he was late just one more time, so Mallory trailed behind him as they made their way back. She had been annoyed at first, because it was her Birthday and that meant she got to do whatever she wanted, but then she noticed the angry-looking clouds creeping across the moor and decided it was for the best.

The stone wall only went to their shoulders, so they got off their bikes and hefted them up, dropping them over the crumbling wall. Danny gave Mallory a boost, and then they jumped down next to their bikes, landing in the mud with a splat.

It sucked at her boots as she moved to pick up her bike from the muck.

"Mum's going to kill me," the scrawny boy groaned.

She made a face. He was being dramatic, because it wasn't like his mum would really kill him. Most she'd do was yell a lot. And from what Mallory understood, Danny's mum did that quite often, and almost always after he came home from playing with Mallory, so she didn't see how this time would be any different.

His mum didn't like mud, or the fact that Mallory and he went down to the river, which was supposedly dangerous. The parents in the village said a child had fallen in once and drowned. But Mallory just figured that was one of those stories adults made up to scare little kids, because the bank by the river was muddy, and they always came back caked in mud and with grass stains on their knees.

And besides, Mallory wasn't afraid.

They were squelching onto the main road, dragging their bikes behind them, when Danny nudged her shoulder. She glanced over and saw the last two people she wanted to see.

The Turner twins.

The twins gave them a nasty look, but when they saw Mallory, their eyes widened in fear.

It wasn't her fault, not really. She hadn't meant to, it was just, strange things tended to happen around her when she got angry. And the last time that happened, Robbie Turner was dumping pencil shavings in her book bag.

She wished really hard for something bad to happen to him, because he was a giant knobhead and she just knew she'd get splinters from cleaning the stupid pencil shavings out of her bag. He laughed while she raged at him, drawing the attention of their entire class.

And then a clump of his hair fell from his head, hovering for a moment in front of his nose before falling to the floor. He'd picked it up and frowned, then ran his hands through his hair, only for more clumps to be pulled away.

At the time, it was funny. He shrieked and clutched at his scalp, only to watch as all his hair fell out. But then she turned and saw her classmates' faces.

Now all the students in her year were calling her names behind her back and avoiding her.

Danny stuck by her because he'd always known she could do things the other children couldn't do, and he thought she was brilliant for it. But he was the only one.

The Turner twins eyed Mallory and Danny warily for a moment, and then turned around, walking stiffly back the way they came.

Danny snickered. "Bet they had fun explaining to their mum how Robbie's hair fell out."

She stared after them, feeling distinctly uncomfortable and a little embarrassed, because the sight of them was now associated with her classmates and their dislike of her. But more than that, it was the understanding that there was something very unnatural about Mallory Hopkins.

When she was little, she hadn't realized that she was doing anything extraordinary. Fairy tales and magic were in all the book and movies, and what she could do, turning lights on with a thought or animating toys just because she wished it, seemed like nothing at all.

But when she got older, she realized that she had to keep her powers a secret. She'd read all the comics, X-Men and the like: when people found out someone had superpowers, they generally don't react positively. Instead they called up the government, and secret agents came to lock up the mutants and do horrible experiments on them. And then the mutants turned evil and went off to get revenge on all the Nazis.

She really really didn't want to be dissected, thank-you-very-much.

Not that any of her classmates would tell the adults, and even if they did, no adults would actually believe them. But it still scared her, because she couldn't always control her temper. And what if it happened in front of an adult, in a way that couldn't easily be explained away?

"So long as their mum and dad don't believe them, I don't care."

Danny nudged her shoulder again. "None of that, not on your birthday." He swung one leg over his bike. "Come on, let's race back. I'll bet you a fiver I can get to the letterbox before you, knobby-knees."

Mallory grinned. "Don't you dare cheat!" But he was already off and she had to scramble onto her bike, pedaling hard, to catch up.

She rode on his tail, skidding around a corner and nearly crashing into the bins in front of their neighbour's yard. The bike shuddered and jolted under her with every break in the uneven pavement.

The wind whipped her dark hair back as she kept low on the bike, trying to minimize wind resistance. Danny Pearce was not beating her this time, not on her life. A crack of thunder boomed as the approaching storm finally reached them. The rain got in her eyes, distorting her vision.

She pulled up by Danny's side, legs pumping at the pedals furiously, as they rounded on the turn to their street. Danny slowed, but Mallory didn't, trusting her powers to keep her bike upright as she whipped around the corner full speed.

The wheels slid out from under her and she didn't even have time to think before she hit the ground, tumbling across the street before skidding to a halt.

"Mallory!"

Danny pedalled back to where he'd seen her fall, but she was already picking herself up.

She held her hands up. "I'm okay."

Both knees were bloodied, though one was more scraped up than the other, and her shoulder would be sore, but that was all. The biggest wound was to her ego, she really thought it would work this time.

"Dummy." He helped her stand and they limped the last leg to Mallory's house, walking next to their bikes instead of riding.

The lights were on and Mrs. Pearce from two doors down was waiting under the awning on her front step, arms folded. Mallory couldn't see through the rain, but she bet her face was cross.

She waved, just to make Mrs. Pearce feel obligated to wave back. Mrs. Pearce always made a funny face when Mallory tried being friendly, like she swallowed a lemon.

Mallory dropped her bike on the front lawn and stomped up the steps and into their house, her knees stinging with every step.

"Mum, Dad, I'm home."

In the living room both her parents sat on the couch, and across from them sat the strangest woman Mallory Hopkins had ever seen.

The old woman had a stern face and witchy looking black robes with a pointed hat, like something out of a storybook.

"Oh lord, Mallory, what's happened to you?" Mum got up, rushing over to her to fuss over her scraped knees, incidentally blocking Mallory's view of the stranger.

"I fell off my bike. And it was raining."

"Your knees!" Mum's voice did that thing it did when she was really stressed and went all high pitched. "What did you do to your knees?"

"I said I fell, didn't I?"

"Don't sass your mother," said Dad.

"And the mud! Look at it! Don't tell me you went down to that horrid river again."

"I won't, then." It was a poor deflection, but she was more interested in batting her mum away so she could look at the stranger on their couch.

"Mallory, don't drip on the carpet," said her dad, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"S'not like I can help it."

"I said don't sass."

"I'm not sassing, and anyway who's she?"

Mum moved aside and Mallory gave the stranger a little wave.

"Hello, Miss Hop-," the strange woman froze with her tea cup halfway to the table. She stared at Mallory for a good long moment before she cleared her throat.

"Miss Hopkins. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hello." Mallory stood just outside the living room, dripping on the carpet. Her shirt was sticking to her skin and there was dirt on her arms and legs from the fall, in addition to the blood on her knees.

She carried with her the smell of the damp outdoors and muck from the river. Which was probably why the woman was staring at her, still staring at her, but a part of her feared that the real reason was something much more sinister.

She made Robbie Turner's hair fall out, and now there was a strange woman sitting in their living room. Though, the woman didn't look like how Mallory imagined secret agents would look.

The stranger cleared her throat again, and put her cup of tea down. "I am Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I am a representative from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as I was just telling your parents, you are invited to attend our school next September."

Mallory edged into the room, trying to be casual, like she wasn't in the room with a lunatic or secret agent.

"Mum?" Her voice wavered, just a bit, at the end. "What's going on?"

"Ask daddy, love. I'm getting the first aid kit. I don't want those cuts getting infected." Mum walked off, which meant it was just her dad between her and the potential secret agent or crazy lady.

"Dad?" She inched closer to him.

"Just watch the rug."

"Got it. Now what's going on?"

"Like I said," spoke McGonagall, "Hogwarts is a school for gifted children. Surely you've had some instance where you've noticed you can do things that the other children cannot?"

"Um. No. Definitely not. I'm ordinary. Very ordinary."

"Mallory, don't you remember that time when you were five and you made Nibbles float?" He turned to the secret-agent-pretending-to-be-a-professor, "I couldn't believe my eyes, it was a miracle."

Nibbles was her stuffed panda.

"Not helping dad. And it was probably just your imagination." She was now edging away, back towards the kitchen where mum was probably under the cabinets getting out the first aid kit. She could run out the back door and Danny would probably let her hide under his bed for the night. And from there, she didn't know where she'd go.

Mallory gave the Deputy Headmistress a winning smile. "You know dad, with his active imagination."

That was what Danny's mum said when he'd told her, at age six, that Mallory had superpowers. It sounded like the thing one ought to say when convincing someone that superpowers weren't real.

"What's gotten into you?" said her dad, frowning.

"She's a secret agent spy dad RUN!" And with that Mallory took off, only to collide with her mum in the doorway.

"Mallory!"

"No, nonono- Mum, get out of the way! She's a super secret agent spy and she's going to take me away and then you'll never see me again because they'll do 'speriments!"

"Miss Hopkins! I do not know what a secret agent spy is." Professor McGonagall said super secret agent spy the same way some people said pustules and taxes. "But I am certainly not here to take you away from your parents. I am a teacher of Transfiguration, and if you'd just sit down I'd show you."

Mallory glared. "Don't listen to her, mum."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" said the secret agent, and she whipped out a slender wooden stick and aimed it at their coffee table.

And then the table turned into a great big dog.

Mallory gaped, and walked onto the carpet to get a closer look.

"Mallory!" dad hissed. "You're dripping on the carpet."

She ignored him. It really was a dog, and it even woofed when she poked it.

"Wicked. How'd you do that?"

"That is what you'll be learning at Hogwarts."

"Mallory. The carpet."

"Dad!" She said in her best dad-you're-being-embarrassing tone.

"Tony, no one cares about the bloody carpet," said mum.

"I do. It's my mother's and it's-"

Professor McGonagall flicked her wand again and Mallory was dry. Two more flicks and all the mud was gone and her cuts were healed.

She stared at the Professor, who was probably not a super secret agent or a lunatic, and wondered if she could go to their school a year early. Like, right now.

Mum raised her eyebrows. "I guess I got the first aid kit out for nothing, then."

"Mum."

"Well, now that we have that over with, there's a lot to go over and some forms to fill out. Though without anymore interruptions," the professor paused to give Mallory a look. "This should be done in no more than an hour."

"Wait," said Mallory. She glanced at her mum and dad. "I have a question."

"What is it, Miss Hopkins?"

"So what I can do, it's magic?"

"Yes. You are what we'd call a witch."

"Is it… um- " She glanced at her dad. "Do people get magic from their mum and dad?"

The professor frowned. "I don't see how that's particularly relevant in your case."

Dad cleared his throat. "I think what Mallory is trying to ask is if it's genetic. You see, we adopted her when she was a baby."

Professor McGonagall stiffened. "It can be genetic, certainly. It passes down families. Your mother very well could be a witch."

Mum shook her head. "We met Mallory's birth mum. I don't think she would've kept something like that from us."

"She might have believed she had to. All witches and wizards are required to uphold the Statute of Secrecy."

"Is there a witch named Angela Winters, then? She was young, about sixteen. We don't know who the father was. She tried caring for her for some months, but couldn't manage it on her own."

Professor McGonagall let out a little breath. "No, no I do not know of any witch named Angela Winters. But I can hardly be expected to know every witch in Great Britain." McGonagall tapped her wand against her chin. "I suspect that if you mother was a witch, she would've sent you to live with wizarding relatives, not muggles, so she was probably a muggle herself. Though it's quite possible your father may have been a wizard. Unfortunately without a name, there's little I can do to help you."

"Okay." It was only a matter of curiosity, after all. She already had a mum and dad. "So, tell me about Hogwarts."


	2. Chapter 2

**September 1, 1992 (Tuesday)**

The first thing anyone said to her was, "Hi! Have you seen Harry Potter?"

"Who?" Mallory was in the side hall of the Hogwarts express, trying to find an empty compartment when the short blonde boy bumped into her.

Mum's eyes teared up when Mallory got on the train. Dad gruffly said they could hire tutors if she wanted to come back home. And then mum asked her more than three times if she had all her things. They insisted she bring a hundred pounds of wizarding currency, which came to about 20 gold galleons, just in case. She convinced them she was fine on her own when they offered to help her find a compartment. No one else's parents went on the train with their children. She wasn't about to be the first.

Now she was standing in the middle of the packed carriage, dragging her trunk behind her. Was she just supposed to go to an empty compartment and sit? She didn't know if there were separate carriages for different years or houses, though she supposed it would be marked if they were. Were they allowed to leave their trunks once they found a compartment?

The older students all brushed past her, knocking into her shoulder more than once on their way past her. Several students in red were having loud conversations and there was the pop and crackle a spell being cast. The train shuddered under her as another group of students raced down the hall.

And that was how Colin Creevey met Mallory Hopkins, alone and overwhelmed on the Hogwarts Express.

The short blonde boy gaped at her.

"You don't know? He's supposed to be on the train. He's a year above us and he's famous! I've always wanted to meet him. I even brought my camera- see? I'm going to get his picture!" She didn't know much Wizarding celebrities, but she'd gotten in the habit of trying to find the muggle analogues to Wizarding culture, so she imagined it must be like the members of Take That or The Stone Roses attending her school.

"Sorry. I'm a muggleborn, I don't-"

"Oh me too! I'm Colin Creevey."

"Mallory Hopkins. Bit much to take in, yeah?"

"My mum and dad didn't believe Professor McGonagall at first. Thought she was mental."

"Me either. I thought she was one of those government agents, like the ones in the comic books."

Colin giggled. "So there's no witches or wizards in your family at all? Because we think maybe one of my Uncles was a squib. He was an odd one."

"No, I don't think so." She wasn't telling anyone she was adopted. Whenever Mallory got in trouble, the whole village would talk about how Mallory was going to grow up to be a slag and knocked up at sixteen, like her birth mum. Her dad told her that her classmates' parents said that stuff in front of their children, and that her classmates didn't really mean it. They were only repeating their parents' words.

But if muggles reacted that poorly, she couldn't imagine how Wizards, whose culture resembled a mashup of the Victorian era meets Lord of the Rings, would react to hearing her birth mum was young and unmarried. She didn't pay much attention in history class, but she remembered enough to know that unmarried people having babies was even more scandalous back then.

"Have you been to Diagon Alley? It's absolutely amazing. They have brooms that fly, can you believe it?"

"And they actually make potions in cauldrons." Mallory said, a slow grin spreading across her face.

"It's like something out of a book! And to think it's real and we're going to a school to learn magic."

"It'll be brilliant."

"Shame Wizards don't have the telly, though."

"Yeah. I asked, and Professor McGonagall said my mix tapes won't work here. I brought my walkman anyway, because she didn't even know what a walkman was, so how could she know if it'll work? But apparently electricity doesn't even work around magic." Mallory wrinkled her nose.

"Me too! I brought my gameboy. I haven't tried it yet, though."

"We should try when we get to Hogwarts. Bet you it works and they're just saying that because they don't want us playing games in class. The teachers did that at my primary school. They banned bandanas because they said they were gang symbols."

"They probably just don't want us to be distracted from school work. Or maybe the think it's unfair that muggle students can get walkmans and gameboys and wizarding kids can't."

"They could just go to the store and buy one."

"My dad said they can't because they're iso- " he frowned, "Iso-something. Solitary? I don't remember the word. But they're on their own and they don't want to join muggle culture, so they don't know 'bout walkmans or game boys, so they can't buy them."

"Well, that's stupid."

"Maybe. Anyway, d'you know where you'll end up?"

"Not really." Mallory shrugged. She hadn't really thought about it.

"I want to be a Gryffindor. That's where Harry Potter is."

"What's he famous for at twelve years old, anyway?" Maybe he was some sort of wizarding royalty, like Prince Henry or William. Or he could be some kind of child star on the telly, only wizards didn't have those.

"You mean you don't know?"

"I-" A looming presence cast a shadow over her.

"Aw, ickle firsties." said a red-headed boy. Another red-head, identical to him in every way, looped his arms around Colin and Mallory.

"Real wee ones." said the one who was leaning on them.

"Then I suppose it's our duty, Gred."

"Sorry?"

"You don't want to go that way." The twin to the left pointed to the front compartments. "And you especially want to avoid the toilets."

"They're vanishing toilets, you see."

"Couple firsties went in one year-"

"-and they vanished into thin air."

"One was found two months later-"

"-living in the forest with werewolves. Poor bloke forgot how to speak english."

"Last we heard, he's still in St. Mungo's."

"They've yet to figure out how he ended up out there."

Both twins had wicked grins smeared across their faces, like someone just said the punchline to a joke. Mallory glanced at Colin out of the corner of her eye, mentally willing him to play along.

"Really?" she widened her eyes just a tad. "but we can't go to the front compartments, either. Someone tried to engorge a cat, but the spell went wrong somehow."

"What?" Colin looked between Mallory and the twins, confused. She talked over him.

"All its hair fell out and it grew giant warts! They're filled with pus and anytime someone tries to catch it they explode. It's disgusting."

"Right Colin?" She nudged him.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Colin said. He sounded the very opposite of convincing.

The twins looked at one another, and then at the two first years. Their faces split into identical grins.

"Almost-"

"-but not quite."

"Well," she shrugged, "it's only my first day."

They ruffled Mallory's hair and went off, presumably to trick more first years into thinking the toilets were jinxed.

Once they were gone, she groaned. "That was bad." Embarrassing, even. They didn't believe her for a second.

"Yeah, bit of a mean trick. Why did you tell them that?"

"It's bollocks. The teachers wouldn't put eleven year olds in danger. They were just making it up to scare us."

"Oh, why'd they do something like that?" Probably because it was funny. "And anyway, you shouldn't say that word. Mum'd rinse my mouth with soap if I did."

Mallory ignored him "We need to work on our signals if we're going to be friends."

Danny would've gotten it straight away, and he stopped caring about her cursing ages ago. But he wasn't here, and she felt his absence like a missing limb. Danny had always been there.

"We're friends?"

"Sure, us muggleborns have to stick together." Colin was nice, at least. And she knew he wouldn't look down on her for not having magical parents. She remembered hearing about some prejudice against muggleborns, though she'd experienced none so far.

Worse, Professor McGonagall hadn't said how many students were muggleborns. For all Mallory knew, Colin and she might be the only ones this year.

Wizards didn't know what a telly was or how to use a walkman, so they were unlikely to know anything about comic books or music. She didn't know what she'd have in common with these students, and she was afraid they wouldn't have anything to talk about. Sticking with Colin seemed safe, and right then and there she promised herself that she'd try to be in whatever House he was in, if she could.

The hat had barely touched her hair before it shouted "SLYTHERIN!" -putting her on the opposite side of the Great Hall from Colin. She sat down at the Slytherin table next to the boy who'd gone before her, Leland Harper. A couple older students nodded towards her, and Harper shook her hand.

The house of the cunning and the ambitious. She wouldn't use those words to describe herself, but then she never thought about it. Maybe a Gryffindor would've gone up to the Turner twins and apologized, instead of turning away. She didn't know.

Graham Montague became the sixth new Slytherin, and sat on Harper's other side.

Mallory glanced up at the professors' table. The headmaster looked exactly how she'd imagine a wizard to look. His robes even looked like the Sorcerer's robes from Fantasia.

And he was staring at her with a grave expression on his face, all serious and sombre, like dad's face when grandmum died.

Mallory looked away.

Another first year, Darla Rowle, joined Slytherin and sat across from Mallory. One of the older students, a blonde boy with a pointy chin, started a whispered conversation with her.

Finally, after Ginevra Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, the sorting ceremony concluded. Mallory practically jumped when the food appeared on her plate out of thin air. She couldn't wait to write to Danny about this. He'd flip.

Glancing at the Gryffindors, Mallory managed to catch Colin's eye. She gave him thumbs up, and he waved. Maybe they'd have classes together. Just because they were in different houses didn't mean they couldn't talk.

"Did you expect to get into Slytherin?" Asked Rowle. She had dirty blonde hair and an impish smile.

"Not really, you?" She figured she ought to try to make friends right away, especially if some of the students knew each other beforehand. If she didn't make an effort, they'd go back to their old patterns of friendship and she'd be left out in the cold.

"Don't worry about it, you'll fit right in. My parents and grandparents were all in Slytherin, so it was pretty much to be expected. What House were your parents in?"

"They didn't go here. So wait, that means you know some of the professors? They look old as dirt. And I'll bet they taught your parents, too."

"Professor McGonagall did, I think. Professor Snape's pretty new. He's our Head of House. I heard from my cousin he's strict."

The blonde boy with the point chin nodded. "He is, but he's fair. Professor McGonagall's really strict, as well. Flitwick's an imbecile, though. And Dumbledore is an old coot. He hates Slytherins."

"But he's the Headmaster. Doesn't he have to be fair?"

"That's what my father said, but he can't get enough support to get him sacked. My father's on the board, you see."

Yes, she did. Hogwarts Houses were like rival football teams, and the Headmaster supported his team. And the pointy boy's father was sort of influential, but the Headmaster had more friends than he did. She wasn't sure what a board did, but she knew it must be important if they could sack the Headmaster.

"What's he do to Slytherins?"

"He lets the muggleborns get away with anything, just because they don't know any better. And no matter what, he thinks his pet Gryffindors are always in the right."

She started feeling a little uncomfortable. "The muggleborns?"

"You know," he lowered his voice, "mudbloods."

"Oh." She felt a little funny, like her legs were leaden under the bench.

Harper shrugged. "Well, someone has to be on their side. Otherwise the muggleborns wouldn't get any help at all."

"What do they need help with?" Mallory said, trying to inject harmless curiosity into her tone.

"Well, they're not really capable of the same kind of magic we are." said Darla Rowle. "It's not their fault, but they don't belong here."

Graham Montague, the boy sitting on Harper's other side, said. "Not to mention, they always smell a bit funny."

Harper snorted.

"I'm not joking, they do. Like petrol or plastics."

"Don't be mean, Monty. They can't help it."

So that was what they meant when they said that wizards discriminated against muggleborns. Worst part was, she doubted Rowle even knew she was being a bigot.

"I don't know. It's a bit unfair to generalize, don't you think?" Again, she tried for a light tone, but she didn't think she quite managed it.

The blonde boy with the pointy chin frowned. "What's your last name again?"

Mallory felt sick.

"Hopkins."

"Hopkins? That's not a wizarding name." Said Harper. "Are you a half-blood then?"

She remembered all those moments of being an outsider in the village, and now she didn't even have Danny by her side.

Say yes.

But she wasn't ashamed of her parents.

Mallory squared her shoulders.

"No, I'm a muggleborn."

Everyone at the Slytherin table went still. Then a spate of furious whispers began. "That's impossible!"

"There's never been a mudblood in Slytherin." said the blonde boy with the pointy chin.

Darla Rowle looked at her like she was some kind of insect, and Harper was discreetly wiping his hand clean on his robe. The hand he'd shaken her's with. And didn't that just sting. She felt a lump rising in her throat and tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

"Well, then I'll be the first."

"-dirty mudblood in Slytherin-"

"I'll go to the board! My father will-"

They talked over each other, ignoring her entirely. She seethed.

"-practically as bad as a muggle-"

"It'll bring down the reputation of our house-"

"-bloody creatures of dirt-"

"-next year you'll see five, and then ten, and soon no one will respect Slytherin-"

No. She wasn't putting up with this. She'd go up to McGonagall after the feast and tell her that those redheaded twins pranked the hat, and that it'd all been a terrible mistake. And then the professor would change her house.

She wanted to tell them that she'd get it fixed, so they could all just shut up about it. She'd be out of their stupid house before the end of the night, but she couldn't will the words past her lips.

Her pride, and a furious rage at these stupid bigots stopped her.

Bloody creatures of dirt. Were they joking? Did they really call people shit like that?

"Shut up, I'm no bloody creature." They ignored her.

She opened her mouth to shout it, but she couldn't produce any sound. For a moment she thought it was just nerves, but then she realized she physically couldn't speak. Someone cast a spell on her.

The pointy blonde haired boy had his wand out and was grinning. Mallory wanted to punch that stupid grin right off his face.

"Nice one." said Harper.

She wanted to run, out of the Great Hall and back home. But she didn't, because that meant she was defeated, and she wasn't.

By the end of dinner, most of the professors have left the table. Some kind of emergency, because the professor with greasy black hair- Snape- had run out of the Great Hall cursing about someone crashing a car.

The prefects, Gemma Farley and some boy, Higgs or something, escorted them down into the dungeons. Professor McGonagall wasn't in the Great Hall. She'd ask her tomorrow, because she didn't think she'd manage to find her way around the castle on her own. It was only one night in the house of snakes. She'd manage.

That's what she told herself.

The older students were sitting around the fire. Mallory was stopped by the other first years and a few students- maybe second or third years- who formed a rough ring around her.

"Hat's gone barmy. It's never picked a muggleborn before, not ever."

"Bet it's been hexed, only explanation for it."

They undid the silencing spell.

"You're going to ask Professor Snape to go home. Tonight."

"And if I don't?"

"We'll get you expelled."

"So that's why there aren't any muggleborns in Slytherin." She felt like ice, and she could barely keep herself standing still, she wanted so badly to hurt them, to scream, to do something. The sort of rage that made her reckless, worse than Robbie Turner ever made her feel.

"You little bigoted pieces of shit try and intimidate them, yeah? Not because we're unworthy, but because you're all rotten ugly gits."

"Oh look at this! The foul mudblood can speak."

"Not with a civilized tongue."

"Obviously not, what did you expect from a mudblood?"

"What, you want me to get creative?"

"We want you to go back to the dirty hovel you crawled out of."

"My dad's a doctor, we don't live in a hovel, stupid."

"dock-tor? He works on a dock?"

"He helps people, cures them. That's what good people do, instead of being bigots."

"No I like my idea better. He works on a dock by the ocean. Lifts heavy things, a really important job for muggles. Requires all their brainpower, you see?"

"We don't even live near the ocean!"

"Wow, and he's still trying to be a dock-tor? That's so sad. You really have to pity those muggles."

"I heard muggle healers cut people open and play with their organs. Is that what your dad does?"

"No, he's a general practitioner. He treats colds and broken bones."

"Teaches them to what? Light a fireplace? But wait! He can't because he doesn't have a wand."

"Stupid. You don't need a wand to light a fireplace. And a cold's a virus. It's a type of illness. Don't wizards get sick?"

"Not from muggle sicknesses, we don't. Merlin, don't you know anything?"

"I heard muggles treat broken bones by cutting off limbs."

"That's bollocks and you know it."

"What do you know? You're just some stupid muggle."

"Not a muggle. Muggleborn. There's a difference, idiot."

"One's a jarvey, and the other's a jarvey that might be able to make a few sparks appear out her wand."

"A what did you say?"

"Oh that's right. You wouldn't know what a jarvey is. They're like ferrets, only they can talk. They can mimic speech a little bit, like how muggles try to mimic us, but you can't have a real conversation with one coz they can't comprehend real intelligent conversation, you see? Just like muggles. Oh, and they like cursing. A lot like you, really."

Fine then, she'd use the dirtiest word she knew. "Twat."

"'scuse me?"

"I said you're bigoted little twat, you twat." Her face felt like it was on fire and blood rushed in her ears. Her hands were clammy and her skin felt hot. "Your mum's a twat, too. Your whole family is full of them. Really bloody ugly ones. And I meant the bloody as in the literal sense of the word. And hairy, that too."

"What the fuck?"

"Oh, and you have a twat instead of a penis, just in case you didn't understand what I meant."

She thought, distantly, that one of the slytherins might be laughing. Those were the worst insults she knew, heard in the village, and delivered to the stupid bigots of Slytherin House by the only muggleborn ever to get into their stupid house. She hoped they choked on their laughter.

"I understood what you meant, you sicko."

She grinned. "Yeah, so? What'll you do about it." The last time she was this angry, Robbie Turner's hair fell out, and her classmates looked at her like she was a freak. But she didn't care. She didn't care that they'd think she was a freak, she wanted to hurt him.

"Alright then. You want a duel? Fine. Let's have a duel. Wand out." Ill-considered move on his part.

She whipped out her wand- aspen wood and dragon heartstring, unyielding. But she wasn't going to use it. She didn't know any spells. But she did know her magic did unexpected things when she was angry, so all she had to do was avoid getting hit until something happened to him.

The older slytherins had migrated over, and all of Slytherin house was watching them.

"Start on three."

"Two."

She let out a breath, thinking about what a stupid shit he was. Her magic wouldn't fail her.

"One."

Mallory threw herself to the left, but halfway through the motion she found herself hurtling through the air. She yelped in surprise, dropping her wand.

She was dangling by her foot in the middle of the common room.

"Like I said, a muggle with a stick does not make a witch."

"Fuck you."

He sent a stinging hex at her.

"Ow. Stupid, put me down!"

"Maybe you should learn to shut up and respect your betters."

"Silencio!"

She let out a silent shriek of rage. Luckily, her hands were free to make gestures, all of which were undeniably crude and learned from the teenagers that lurked in the not very nice part of South Brent.

Harper just laughed, and sent another stinging hex followed by something that stopped her from being able to move at all.

Petrificus totalus.

Internally, she panicked. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak, and there weren't any adults coming to help.

Her breathing rate was the only thing she could control, technically, but she couldn't help but breathe faster, and tears were stinging her eyes.

"Aw look, she's crying."

Fuck you.

Darla Rowle sent something that caused her skin to erupt in pain, and internally she shrieked. She couldn't see what was wrong- something was wrong with her skin.

Another spell and she was blind. Terror streaked through her, and her skin broke into a sweat. Don't let it be permanent.

She couldn't tell who was attacking her, she wasn't familiar enough with the voices, and she couldn't pay attention because something was wrong with her skin. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chests and her fingers and toes were ice cold and clammy. Pins and needles prickled down her arms and legs.

She couldn't think. She couldn't see.

Mallory tried getting control of her breathing, but she felt like she couldn't get in enough air. Oh god, they were going to kill her. They'd done a spell, hadn't they? So she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. There was a ball stuck in her throat and she couldn't swallow around it. Something was compressing her chest. There was no air and she was going to die.

A moment of vertigo and then she hit the ground hard on her head before toppling to the side. Lights exploded behind her eyelids. A bunch of students were talking over one another, voices angry. Someone shouted.

"Hey! Shut up! Snape's coming, you've had your fun now undo it before you get caught. He's in a real mood tonight."

Barely ten seconds later she could speak, see, and the boils- that was what was wrong with her skin- had vanished.

"Get up." Montague dragged her to her feet and shoved her to the back.

"No mudblood has ever been in Slytherin, and there never will be." Whispered one of the older boys. "Understand? Tomorrow, you beg to leave."

She just nodded, shaking too hard to do anything else.

Professor Snape might've given a speech, but Mallory wasn't listening. She stumbled into her dorm, following Darla Rowle and a couple other Slytherin girls.

"I'll just-" sleep here tonight and be out of your hair tomorrow.

"Don't talk to me." said one of the girls.

"You understand right? We didn't want to do any of that, but we had to. If we didn't they'd do that to us as well." said Darla Rowle.

Mallory opened her trunk, which was located next to the girl- she didn't know her name- the one who said not to talk to her. She dug out her jammies.

"No I-" don't have energy for this. Just leave me alone.

"And really, it'd be so much better for you if you went home. You'd be with your own kind, and that's always nice."

Mallory, whose temper was short on any other day but especially short this night, slammed her trunk shut.

"Piss off, you stupid bint. I'm tired, and I want to go to bed."

"What, are you going to try to duel again? There's no prefects up here. No Professor Snape. Are you sure you want to try that?"

"I'll get better at dueling. I don't know any spells yet."

"Look, I know what a big deal it is, first witch in the family, but you're not going to get better. It's a sad truth what the Ministry does- they introduce you to this world and tell you you'll fit in, but you won't. You'll never be able to do the kind of magic we can do. You'll never be one of us."

"How about you mind your own business." Mallory turned around and shoved on her pajamas, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary.

If she was feeling defeated before, she wasn't any longer. Fuck her. She was going to be the best damn witch that nasty bint had ever seen, and she was going to make all of them hurt for doing that to her. She'd rain hell down on them.


End file.
